Not Nearly Enough
by bluebutterfly13
Summary: He hadn't exactly meant to find himself here, only a half mile from her house, soaking wet and maybe a little bit drunk, but there you are. McCoy didn't mean to have hundreds of things in his life happen, but happen they did.


**Not Nearly Enough**

McCoy took another long swig from the bottle he was holding as the rain pounded down around him. He hadn't exactly meant to find himself here, only a half mile from her house, soaking wet and maybe a little bit drunk, but there you are. McCoy didn't mean to have hundreds of things in his life happen, but happen they did.

As he rounded the last corner before reaching the long lane, he caught a glimpse of the house off in the distance. It was beautiful, old, lovely and in every way, her. It ached, that feeling of knowing that this was what she called home now, and that this home reflected her in every way. But then he drew a little closer and noticed a few things that didn't quite fit with the woman he had known. A shiny sports vehicle parked in a garage that looked as though it featured much of the latest technology to maintain the showy thing. There were other things, minute little details, but he was observant, and he wondered at their presence. And he couldn't quite help but imagining the place, as it would have been. A stable, maybe, with a horse or two. A porch swing too, his grandmother had had one of those, and something about that always stuck with him.

He looked at this house and tried not to drown in emotions that were threatening him. The rain poured down his face, as if the very sky was crying when he could not. He could feel as each sensation racked through him…guilt...sorrow…passion…and regret. So much regret he thought he might just be swallowed by it, never to return as the man the rest of the world knew.

After a moment more of struggling, he realized he'd just been standing there staring and unmoving, as the rain picked up around him. Only a moment after this realization, the very woman who had invaded his every thought for the last three hours stepped out onto the porch. She held a broom and began to almost ferociously sweep the porch, a strange thing to do while it was raining and more than a little cold.

McCoy stood frozen, taking in every aspect of her - the soft features, the slightly wild blonde hair, the bright blue eyes. And then, just as he was considering bolting, she looked up and saw him. Her eyes – god how he loved those eyes – widened, and she stepped forward slightly.

"Dr…Dr. McCoy?" She asked, in a quiet hesitant voice, and he heard the confusion and he heard the way she called in a way that wouldn't alert anyone in the house to his presence. Maybe her mother was inside, trying to sleep, he'd heard she had been ill…

"Hey, Chapel." And after all the time he talked to the bartender about the things he'd say to her, nothing would come out. Christine was gaining her composure quickly, though, and he wasn't surprised. If memory served, it was hard to ruffle her. She still looked a little wild about the eyes, but her caring nature soon took over.

"Well, come up on the porch, you're soaked through. You can't come inside, uh, like that. I'll get you a towel." He saw her walk on light feet into the house, closing the door quietly behind her. He climbed up the stair and stood, dripping, taking one last long drink from his bottle before he had to face her.

"Here, here's a towel. What on earth are you doing, it's pouring down rain and your completely wet? You should know to be weary of the weather here; it can rain without a moment's warning. I thought you were on the Vulcan colony, didn't Starfleet assign you to the-"

"Chapel, you're rambling," he interrupted her.

She grinned a little sheepishly. "Sorry. I just didn't expect you here." Her eyes widened again. "You. Here. Oh, no. You have to go. As soon as the rain stops, you have to leave." McCoy could see the panic rising in her eyes and he knew the hurt he felt at that was reflecting in his own. But McCoy wasn't one to let hurt show; McCoy was one to get angry.

"Oh, well I wouldn't want to be an imposition!"

"No, Doctor, you don't understand"

"I mean, sure. I walked for a few miles and maybe I got lost trying to find you but I can tell when I'm not wanted!" It was definitely the alcohol talking. This was out of character for him, and he should have known that there was no way any good could come of being here.

"Doctor, please, you have to listen."

"Doctor? Oh right, that's my title. Well, then, _Nurse_ - oh, wait. I guess I can't call you that, can I?"

"Leonard McCoy, you shut up right now and let me explain!"

Well. McCoy accordingly shut his mouth, but he didn't stop glaring at her until she unexpectedly blurted, "I'm married." Then he wasn't sure what expression was on his face. All that was going through his brain was that one word, over and over. _Married…. married…. married…. married._

Chapel took a deep breath, before continuing. "About a year ago, to a man in law enforcement. He really helped me when I was…well, not broken, but definitely not whole either. Jim told me that I should tell you, but Charlie, he just didn't think it would be a good idea."

"Oh, so this Charlie didn't want me to be at your wedding?" Not that he would have gone. Probably. "You didn't even give me a choice, Chapel-"

"Honde" she said, looking exhausted. What was wrong with her?

"Excuse me?"

"Honde. That's my last name now." She sank wearily to her knees, leaning against the house. "Doctor…I think it's time we were completely open with one another. I need to be able to get past this."

McCoy could only nod, sitting down beside her.

"Three years ago, when I transferred off of the Enterprise, I was at my wit's end. I just…couldn't work in sickbay any more. I couldn't work with you anymore. And after two months on Earth, I realized that I couldn't even practice medicine. That feeling, that drive was just gone. I suppose I might have been gotten past it, but I just didn't want to, didn't even want to _try_. So I handed in my resignation and started over. When I met Charlie, he helped me. He helped me get past all the regret and guilt and everything else that was slowly tearing me apart. Then we fell in love. And now…I'm happy, Doctor. Do you understand?"

Only too well. "I did this. I did it. I did it to you."

"No, it was my fault. I guess I don't have a very good track record with the men I fall for. They never seem to fall for me. With one exception, that is."

"Two."

He saw her eyes close and pain flit across her face. "Doctor…no. Please, don't say that."

"Dammit, Christine. Dammit, I was trying to protect you! You wanted to be a doctor!" McCoy snorted, hating irony so damn much in that moment. "How would that have looked, the CMO seeing his Head Nurse? Starfleet wouldn't have been impressed. It would have risked your whole career! What if you hadn't been able to pursue that dream? I couldn't bring myself to take that from you! I couldn't let you hate me later for taking that from you!"

"And you didn't think to discuss this with me?" Her eyes flashed, an old pain and anger filling them. "It was my future, and you thought you could just make that decision on your own? You knew, _you knew_, how I felt, didn't you? And instead of telling me what you were afraid of, you acted as though you couldn't stand the sight of me. As though my hints, and don't say that you didn't notice them, offended you!"

Oh, god, how he had noticed them. "Hints, Christine! Why not just tell me? Why did I have to make that move? If you knew I wasn't going to do anything, then why not try talking to me instead of leaving?" His voice did not crack on the last word, it did not, it did not.

"Because after Roger, I wasn't going to make that same mistake! I made the first move with him, and I wasn't going to do that again. Roger was only with me out of…I don't even know, to this day. Politeness? Some sick sense of messing with me? I just don't know. And that broke me. It took me years to heal. And I wasn't putting myself out on the line for a man, again, especially for one who acted as though my presence revolted him!"

Damn, she was right. She was always right. It was the only way he could deal with it, to be short with her, to sneer and anything else that might make him forget that he loved her.

"And so I left. Two years was all I could take. And now…now I've moved on. You need to let me move on, Doctor. And you need to, as well."

He could feel the deep weariness emanating from her, and it broke him a little more. "Well there I go, screwing up my life. That seems to be my lot, destroying any happiness that tries to find me."

"No." He was surprised by the vehemence in her voice. "No, I refuse to believe that. Just because you and I missed our chance – and I say missed, you didn't do anything more than I did, Doctor – doesn't mean you are doomed to misery. I couldn't accept a world that was out to get Leonard McCoy." And then she was smiling at him, that soft smile that spoke of so much hope and affection. That smile that he loved so damned much.

It was too good to be true. She couldn't be here, smiling at him, forgiving him, freeing him. It hurt so much, so much he thought that there was no way any living human being could withstand that much pain. He had to get away…

"You're leaving, aren't you?" She smiled again at his completely bewildered expression, but her face was sad. "You're face has always been so easy to read, Doctor. I guess we probably won't see each other again."

"Do I get to meet this Charlie?" He at least had to make sure the man was good enough for her. Well, at least as good enough as it was possible for him to judge. He didn't think any man was good enough for her, himself included.

He wasn't prepared for her reaction; her eyes were wide and panicked and her breathing accelerated before she choked out a loud "No!" Then, as if realizing just how loud her voice had been, she glanced wearily back toward the house.

What the hell?

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but Charlie, he just…doesn't like you very much. Not very much at all." She looked around, her face softening again. "The rain should probably stop in another hour."

How could she say that as if she was just commenting on the weather?

"Goodbye, then, Chapel. It was…a pleasure to have known you."

"It was an honor to have been able to learn under you, Doctor, and I will cherish my memories of the _Enterprise._ Thank you."

The echo of the last words she spoke to him as she left the _Enterprise_ shook him. Though her words were soft and affectionate, instead of the cold and stilted tone before, it cut another slice from his already destroyed heart.

McCoy couldn't take anymore, and turned to leave, her smile haunting him.

He was half way up the drive when he heard the shouting over the noise of the rain. Hesitating, he glanced over his shoulder to see that Christine had gone back in the house. McCoy sighed, knowing that it wasn't any of his business, that he couldn't keep involving himself in her life. He'd only made it a few more steps before an eerie silence came fell over the house. He kept going, though, until he heard footsteps and labored breathing behind him.

Spinning quickly, he was greeted with a gruesome sight: Christine Chapel was staggering towards him, blood blossoming out from a knife in the chest. With a strangled cry, he ran towards her, catching her as she fell limply toward the ground.

Muttering curses under his breath, he automatically went into "Doctor-mode", as she had called in another lifetime, examining the wound. It was serious, but he might be able to save her if he can act quickly. McCoy reaches absently for his tri-corder before it hits him. He's in the rain, on a muddy lane, miles away from anything resembling medical equipment, and with a presumably murderous man in a house less than a hundred yards from him.

"Dammit, Christine, what did you do?"

"Doctor…why? Why did you do this to me?" And despite her fatal wound, her eyes were clear and sharp as they glared at him.

"Damn, I didn't do this to you. It was your psycho husband. Damn, you said you two were happy. _Damn it._"

"No, Doctor. It was you. You came here. You disrupted my life, once again. You took my dream, you took any chance I had at happiness with you, and you took the happiness I found with someone else. You did this to me."

Each word was like a punch in the gut, as he tried to stem her bleeding with his hands. How the hell had this happened? Five minutes ago he had been almost calmly accepting his fate. What was with this complete reversal? Why was she saying these things? This wasn't the Christine that he knew_. Or maybe she always felt this way, and was too kind to really say it_, a nasty voice in his head told him, one he couldn't ignore.

"Damn, Christine. Please don't tell me you mean that. I'm sorry."

"That isn't nearly enough. It's too late for sorry, Doctor." He could feel her pulse slowing, feel her very heart under his hands begin to falter.

"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't want this. Damn it. _Damn it_." And then, with one last penetrating look from her, he felt Christine Chapel's heart wane before finally stopping beneath his hands.

And something within Leonard H. McCoy died with her.

…

…

…

McCoy sat strait up in bed, breathing hard. He was covered in a cold sweat, and he noticed that his hands were trembling. Panting, he struggled against the emotions that resonated within him - the guilt, the sorrow, and the regret. That regret that had been so overpoweringly present. He fought against each one, trying to cope with them and be rid of them. He was healing now, and he didn't want those emotions threatening him, not again.

He wasn't sure how long he sat like that, trying to control his breathing. When he had slowed his heart rate to a semi-normal beat, he got out of bed and began to pace. The one emotion he couldn't push back was the guilt. It was wrong, wrong to try and take this from her, his happiness didn't matter, if he was taking hers…

_Just a nightmare, just a nightmare_. But damn, what a nightmare it had been. He couldn't stand it. It was late; there wouldn't be too many people in the corridors.

Three minutes later he was standing in front of Chapel's quarters. He had no memory of getting there, but he impatiently pressed the buzzer. After thirty seconds and no answer, he pressed it again. He pressed the button for the third time and finally, finally, she opened the doors. Her tousled hair, exposed legs and tight tank top might have normally distracted Leonard McCoy, but he was too preoccupied to notice these things at the moment.

"Dr…Dr. McCoy?"

Damn, too close to that dream. He grabbed her shoulders, and looked straight into her eyes.

"Christine. You have to tell me – are you unhappy? Just tell me. I can't take away your dream and I don't want you to feel forced and I don't want to destroy the happiness you can find with another man, even if I might cause him to stab you, because you know-"

"Leonard." She had been watching him ramble, blinking away her sleepiness, before realizing what he was getting at and interrupting him. "Leonard, what is the matter? What made you think I might be unhappy?"

"Bad dream" he muttered, feeling embarrassed. "You're not, are you?"

She gave him a long look, before gesturing him to follow her inside her quarters. What did that mean? "Sit" she commanded and he sat. "Now let me get this straight. You had a bad dream…a dream in which you were taking away my happiness…and so you came here at two in the morning…to make sure I was still happy?"

He nodded mutely.

She gave him another long look before smiling softly and leaning down to kiss him soundly. "Leonard McCoy, you have got to be the kindest person I've ever met. Although you probably also are the most paranoid. I told you that I was willing to take the chances if I could be with you. We talked it all out, remember? You don't need to worry."

He was probably smiling like an idiot, but he couldn't help but ask, "Even if you could be happy with someone else and still be a doctor?"

"Who says I can't still be a doctor? And besides, you're worth it" she told him simply.

He was definitely smiling like an idiot now.

"Have I ever told you that I love you, Nurse Chapel?"

"Not nearly enough, Doctor McCoy."

* * *

><p><em>Holy cow, this was way longer than I expected it to be. I guess I just sort of got carried away by it. I was seriously debating putting the dream part in the end, but I just couldn't leave it unhappy for the two of them. Plus, why else would Chapel randomly get stabbed at the end? The only logical explanation would be that Bones was dreaming. Anyway, I'm still struggling with making sure the story flows, since I have a habit of just writing whatever comes into my head and then trying to tie it all in later, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!<em>

_Since most of the stories I ever write are inspired by a song, I'll go ahead and tell you what inspired this one - "Here Comes Goodbye" by Rascal Flatts. I could easily imagine that something similar to the song was running through McCoy's mind.  
><em>


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